Its all my Fault
by JessicaRachelPotter
Summary: After the death of his Godfather, Harry decides the world would be a better place without him. TW: SUICIDE, DEPRESSION.


**I own many things, but the Harry Potter franchise is not one of them. That belongs to my Queen, JK Rowling.**

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

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_It's all my fault. He died. Sirius DIED. Because of me. _

Harry Potter stared at his ghostly reflection in the bathroom mirror at number 4 Privet Drive. Sweat highlighted his thin, pale features, giving his skin a sickly glow.

_So… stupid. I'm so stupid._

He splashed water onto his face, drenching the tattered neck of his grey, oversized t-shirt. The rolls of thunder outside had concealed his sobs and his screams as he awoke from another nightmare. His fists weakly pounded the cruel reflection above the sink and he breathed shallowly. The storm inside of his chest ached more than a physical wound ever could.

_It's all my fault._

They were going to be a family. Just the two of them. Sirius was going to be cleared and they would move in together. He pictured waking up to the smell of breakfast cooking, putting on his own clothes and padding down the stairs, to be greeted with a firm hug. More tears leaked from his eyes, dropping onto the white ceramic sink as if they were made from lead. He took a shaky breath.

_It's all my fault._

He eyed the medicine cabinet beside the bath. He knew it contained some of his uncle's tablets. Would there be enough? How many would he have to take? He supposed his couldn't be punished for using magic to end it all if he was dead, but it almost felt good to make his last actions an inconvenience to his relatives.

_It's all my fault._ It became a mantra as he withdrew several labelled boxes and bottles from the cupboard.

_It's all my fault._

_It's all my fault._

Sleeping pills? Or painkillers? Both sounded pretty good. He could end the pain, or he could drift off into sleep. Both.

_It's all my fault._

He went to remove his glasses, but decided against it. Imagine how Dumbledore would feel, seeing his dead body looking so much like his father. But it wasn't Dumbledore's fault was it?

_It's all my fault._

He removed the pills from their boxes and popped as many as he could out of their silver and white packages, lining them up along the floor in front of the bath. He rested there for a while, staring at the row of tiny white angels. He thought of Ron, and how he had been attacked by those brains in the Department of Mysteries.

_It's all my fault._

Hermione and how she was in so much more danger just be association with him. She couldn't even tell her parents for fear they wouldn't let her come back to school.

_It's all my fault._

Ginny. The little girl with a crush on him was long gone, replaced with a battle hardened warrior. It was wrong, she wasn't supposed to be this way. Her experiences in her first year were down to association with him, a way to get to him, and she would never be the same after that.

_It's all my fault._

They wouldn't have tortured Neville's parents if it wasn't for him. There might not have even been a prophecy.

_It's all my fault._

Remus was the last remaining marauder now. All of his best friends were dead. He was alone now.

_It's all my fault._

Harry reached for the first pill and held it up to the dim, yellowish light. These little capsules held his ticket to total oblivion. He would see his parents again. Sirius…

_It's all my fault._

He placed the pill at the back of his tongue and swallowed. He figured he should take about two whole boxes of sleeping pills and maybe a box of a few types of painkillers. They said not to mix them. The air felt heavy.

After his first box he was feeling a pain in his stomach and abdomen, but he figured it couldn't get much worse than the pain he felt when he thought of everyone who had lost loves ones thanks to him.

_It's all my fault._

He finished his second type of painkillers and choked a little. Blood was sprayed across the back of his hand when he stopped coughing. Good. He slowly felt weaker and weaker. He leant back against the side of the bath and took a handful of other pills. A bright light filled his senses and his eyes rolled back. The last thing he heard was frantic voices and footsteps.

_It's all my fault._


End file.
